Holding on to hope
by Tessa Marlene
Summary: A take on the last US elections and Barack Obama's victory from a Hetalia point of view. America is hurt and abused and is hoping that the new president will bring peace and prosperity to a wounded country. Obama/US as requested.


Warning: This story contains blood, violence, abuse, and other bad things all happening to our beloved America. It was used as a way to portray the current economic (and other failed) situation in the United States. If these things bother you please don't read. Also, if you are a fan of the previous administration (you know which one!) don't read. I'm not putting them in a good light at all.

**Holding on to hope**

An Obama/America Hetalia fanfic

Arthur looked over at the still body lying in the oversized bed and for the umpteenth time that night felt pain grip his heart. Alfred looked so small, so fragile amongst the sheets. It reminded him of those early years, when he had been young and would run to him some nights to snuggle up against him and keep the nightmares at bay. He was that small boy again, hurt and alone and it pained Arthur to think how little he had been able to do for him, how little _any_ of them had done for him.

They were all gathered in their common house, the house of nations where they had their meetings and held their talks. Only now they weren't gathered in a meeting room, but in one of the bedrooms in the south wing of the house. Everyone was there, France and Poland and Russia and Japan, Germany and Italy, Sweden and Finland, Austria and Hungary. Canada was sitting by Alfred's bed, holding one of his hands in his slightly smaller ones and crying behind his glasses. Lithuania was sitting on his other side, dabbing at his forehead from time to time with a damp cloth, ever the mothering type. His eyes were sad despite being more skilled at hiding his emotions compared to the sensitive Canadian. Every once in a while Japan would come up behind him, put a hand over his shoulder which he would immediately grab and squeeze as they both looked at their ailing friend.

Alfred had gotten sick just recently, but he had been unwell for a while. Most of them hadn't known the extent of it, just that as of late, he had been having a lot of fights with his boss. His boss was a strict man and when he had first come into power he had scared many of them. Alfred had been injured and his boss had vowed to never let that happen again. He had placed strict guidelines for what was allowed and what was not and practically shielded the happy, bubbly American from the rest of them. He had also taken a lot of that trademark joy and liveliness out of the young man, making him look grim and serious most of the time, which was so very uncharacteristic for him. Arthur had at first thought to protest, but in the end he had given in, seeing that it looked like Alfred preferred it that way.

_I wished I had been smarter, _he thought to himself.

None of them had known, but the relationship between America and his boss had been dangerously on the rocks for quite some time. His boss had been ruthless, sending Alfred to fight against other nations simply because he didn't like them or they didn't like him. Alfred didn't want to fight. He wanted everyone to love him, to be the centre of their attention, their hero. But when he started acting like a bully because his boss told him to, the other nations began pulling away from him. Alfred had argued with his boss that he didn't like that, that he didn't appreciate his boss telling him to do things that made the others angry. In response his boss told him he was immature and foolish and that if he didn't show his superiority to the rest of the world they would all gang up against him and hurt him again.

One day when Alfred had come home from yet another war he had found his boss' friends at his house, eating his food, using up his heat and generally making a mess. He hadn't said anything, just gone into his study and tried to calm his nerves. However when that started to become a habit he had confronted his boss and told him his friends were not welcome in his home. His boss had ignored him, and the next day when Alfred had returned there was a group of thugs along with his boss' friends in his house.

Alfred didn't protest to his boss after that. He knew his boss' time in power was ending soon and he was looking forward to him leaving. He had been chatting with a friend online, an amazing guy who listened to him and told him to keep up hope. His name was Obama and Alfred was thinking about having him as his new boss.

On the day Alftred found out that his boss and his friends were helping themselves to his stash of money he snapped and told them he had had enough and wanted them out of his house. It was finally time he freed himself of their tyranny. His boss mocked him and told him there was no way he could break free. When Alfred yelled that he had a new friend that would soon become his new boss the man slapped him hard, on the cheek. Alfred was stunned; before he could react a backhand followed, and then another. Alfred tried to step back but soon found himself surrounded by the thugs his boss had brought in. Two of them restrained him while the others pulled out their Billy Clubs, their intentions quite obvious. As they knocked him to the ground all Alfred could think of was how much of a fool he had been. He had thought he was getting protection from the bad guys lurking outside, but in his fear and his need for security he had unwittingly brought the bullies into his house.

When they were done with him they left his bloodied, broken body on the ground as his boss came and stood over him, telling him once again that there was no escape. Alfred raised his head, blood dripping from his forehead onto his eyes, and looked the man straight in the eye. "Yes, there is," he said, "Your time will be up soon. I will defeat you and kick you out of my house and get me a new boss."

The man gave him his evil, crooked smirk and said, "You think so? Don't dream too much. Once I leave I'll put one of my friends in charge of you and give him all the power I have. We'll make sure you never get away. Better forget about that friend of yours too. He's not fit to be your boss and I'll make certain everyone knows that."

And so it began. As surely as his boss had promised Alfred's life quickly descended into a total nightmare. His house became a permanent hang out for the thugs and his boss' rowdy friends, who ate his food, took his money and dirtied the place. They scared off all his allies and kept him a prisoner in his own home. If he complained they would beat him and leave him to pick himself up. Most nights would find him sitting in a corner in his living room, clothes torn and blood dripping from his mouth as he watched the bullies laugh and drink and have fun at his expense. At first he was full of terror, worried that this was going to be his destiny for the rest of his life. But as time progressed a solid determination began to form in his heart. He was still in touch with his friend; he knew he would come for him, to take over things and save him from this mess he had gotten himself into. All he had to do was hold on to hope.

The last week was the worst. He was beaten nearly everyday. At one point, when he had lashed out at his boss for using up all his money and finally making him bankrupt, his boss had not only ordered his thugs to beat him but to 'do whatever was necessary to keep him in line.' They had bent him over a table and done unspeakable things to him, his screams reaching even outside. It was only a few days later that Arthur had received a call from a crying Mathew, and went to America's house to see what was going on. Since he had been one of the only nations who had been on good terms with Alfred's boss the thugs had let him in.

He would never forget the sight that greeted him. Even now, thinking back on it made him sick. The house was empty and cold, nothing like the beautiful, rich mansion America used to pride himself on. It was dirty and rat infested and signs of neglect showed everywhere. He had heard that there had been a flood at one point and no one had cared to fix the damages. He found Alfred in his study, starved, bruised and passed out in front of his computer while typing a message to his friend. The first line of the message read, "I think I can…"

Arthur sighed, looking over at the bed where Alfred lay burning with fever. He remembered gathering the body in his arms, holding back tears as he rushed outside the house. He had brought him here, away from his tormentors and back to his former friends. It had been hard to get all the other nations to come over. Most of them were wary of Alfred considering his recent behavior even though he had told them it hadn't been his fault.

Alfred's sudden fit of coughing brought him out of his reverie. Mathew poured a glass of water and gave it to Toris, who held it to Alfred's lips and tipped his head forward so he could drink. He looked at the demure Canadian sitting back and hugging his teddy bear and for some reason it irritated him. Before he knew what he was doing he had walked forward with eyes full of spite and confronted him. "You knew what was going on, didn't you? You're his neighbor. There's no way you could have missed it."

The Canadian shrank back, crying harder into his bear. He said, "I couldn't do anything; I swear. They scared the hell out of me. They would hover around whenever I went to see him, looking at me like I was a stray dog. They told me I had to show documents before I could see him. Once when I went there to watch TV and eat Maple Cake, they kicked me out and threw me on the sidewalk because I had a kitchen knife in my basket." He began crying in earnest then. "If I had known he was suffering so much I would have done something sooner, I swear. I just thought he wanted it that way."

Arthur was about to yell again when France appeared next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Look," he said, "this is not a time to point fingers at each other. None of us knew what was really going on. I for one thought he hated me because I wouldn't help him in his wars. We all abandoned him one way or another. The important thing is that he didn't give up. And if this thing tonight goes well he might have a chance to recover."

_Yes, he might,_ thought Arthur bitterly, _when this thing tonight is decided he will either go home to his friend or his boss' thugs will come for him and take him back to that hellhole for more of the same._

When at around 11:00 pm the door bell rang all of them got a jolt. Hungary went to open the door and a tense aura descended on the room. Lithuania knelt by the bed and began praying as Finland clung to Sweden and hid his face in his coat. When Elisaveta's cry of joy reached their ears they all jumped up, but before any of them could move the door flew open and she rushed inside, almost toppling Roderish over as she threw herself into his arms. Behind her a tanned skinned, handsome man walked in with a smile, holding a box of chocolate in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other.

Arthur thought he was flying. Italy began to scream and jump up and down and Lithuania looked up from his crouch, smiling as the tears spilt over his cheeks. Obama gave the flowers and the chocolate to Estonia and moved toward the bed. Alfred was half asleep, his cheeks flushed and his breathing shallow. Obama leaned down, looking him over gently, his eyes full of compassion and care. The entire room became silent, wanting to give the moment the dignity it deserved. Reaching down his arm, Obama ghosted the back of his hand on Alfred's bruised cheek, causing him to open his bleary eyes and stare at him. Obama grinned as he caught sight of the ocean blue irises and cupped the side of America's face.

"You…you came," Alfred rasped.

"I told you I would."

A smile tugged at Alfred's lips and he closed his eyes, turning his face to the embrace. "I knew it, that's why I held on."

Obama moved his hand and brushed some of the hair out of Alfred's eyes. "That's the idea. That's the true American spirit. You are very very brave. And together, we can fix it all."

"I'm…happy," Alfred mumbled before relaxing in Obama's hand, this time into a calm and peaceful sleep.

Obama straightened up and looked around the room, at all the nations looking at them with awe and tear filled eyes. "I want you to be kind to him from now on," he said, "please take care of him and help him go back to the happy life he had. It's not going to be easy but we all have to try."

Everyone shook their head in agreement, everyone except Russia who was standing near the wall in shadows. Obama turned to him and looked at him with an air of expectation and resolve. Ivan tried to avoid his piercing gaze but couldn't do it for long, so he raised his eyes and said, "Alright. Tell him I'll talk to him later when he is feeling better. We have a lot of things to say to each other."

Obama smiled. Just then he felt a thug on his sleeve and looked down to see Alfred looking up and him with pleading, moist eyes. His smile became gentle as he turned back to his friend and began caressing him once again. Alfred stared into his eyes and said, "Lay down with me, will you? At least for a while?"

"Of course," said the man before pulling back the cover and getting in bed alongside America. Alfred immediately turned toward him, wrapping his trembling arms around his body and pressing himself to his chest. It didn't take long before his shoulders began to shake.

"Shh, shh," Obama said, stroking the back of the blond's head. "It's over, it's all over."

"I, you…thank you. I love you so much," Alfred snuffled.

"I know. I love you too," Obama said, wrapping his arms around Alfred's shoulders and kissing his forehead, his eyes, his cheeks and his lips. When he felt the kiss on his lips, Alfred parted them and let the kiss deepen as he pressed himself closer to the other man, like a bear cub clinging to his guardian.

The other nations slowly began filing out of the room, to give America and his new boss their much needed time and privacy. As Arthur reached the door he looked back at the two individuals lying in bed and something fluttered in his heart, something light and fresh like the first gulp of a cool drink after a long day's work. He smiled and wondered what had happened that he was leaving his beloved former child in the arms of a man he barely knew yet somehow trusted more than anyone. _I guess we all need to change from time to time, _he thought as he left and closed the door behind him.

THE END

* * *

*In the second half of the Bush presidency Canadians who wanted to cross the border were required to show a valid passport. A lot of them were strip-searched, finger printed and some even turned back. This put quite a strain in the American-Canadian relations.

*Even as all nations rejoiced in Obama's victory in the recent election Russia remained distrustful. The Russian president expressed his displeasure with US' interference in the Russia-Georgia dispute but said he hoped that with the election of the new president there would be room for more talk between the two nations.

*Feedback much appreciated ^_^


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